


Choices

by jacquelee



Series: Harry Potter AU [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: gameofcards, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 10:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4603347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacquelee/pseuds/jacquelee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU from after the moment Harry’s parents died. Inspired by a tumblr post that basically said ‘what if McGonagall had said “fuck you” to Dumbledore and raised Harry herself instead of leaving him with people they both knew would be abusive?’ I put a little spin on that, but yeah, this fic is to give Harry the happy childhood he never had. I also developed a huge giant elaborate headcanon in the process, so I’ll probably write some more in it in the future. :P</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a challenge at [game of cards](gameofcards.livejournal.com). The challenge was to come up with an original character and write from their perspective.

_“Ingrid Rosen. You are complicated, aren’t you?”_

_“Why?”_

_“I don’t see any clear line. This doesn’t happen.”_

_“Really? How?”_

_“Do you do anything else than ask questions? Because this is the way it always was. This is how it’s supposed to be.”_

_“I just don’t understand why.”_

_“Well, it’s not for you to understand, just choose.”_

_“I can choose? I thought you choose.”_

_“I choose when it’s obvious. When there is a strong preference. When that is already what they want to choose. When there is more than one preference, the student chooses. Everyone makes a choice. Everyone fits somewhere, or doesn’t fit anywhere else. Except you. Why are you here?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“You don’t want to be here. You don’t want to be sorted. Why don’t you just go back? You don’t see shame in not being sorted, you don’t care about what others think at all. You don’t want any part of what Hogwarts means. You despise it. Why are you here?”_

_“Because they sent me a letter. Because there is a war out there. In here, there is safety, shelter, food. I hate what you are doing, but that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend to fit in. To survive.”_

_“You know, I could just not sort you. They would throw you out.”_

_“Then I could die. Do you want that on your head? Or, you know, hat?”_

_“Oh, great, you’re funny. Ha ha.”_

_“It’s true though. You are here to sort us, aren’t you? Not to decide who should stay here and who should be denied entry. Who should be given a chance to live and who should be left to die.”_

_“Okay, you know what, I like you. Everyone is always the same, always already has been taught to have to make up their mind. To have to choose. They want to compete, to be better than all the others. They forgot that the houses are supposed to build a unity, to stand together. They only ever stand against each other. In all the centuries, there were only very few like you, and most had already made up their mind to fit somewhere anyways. You speak your mind, you understand things way beyond your age, but most of all you don’t care what others want you to do or be. That is very rare. Very rare indeed.”_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Owl! Owl incoming! Owl!” 

It was hard to distinguish between all the screams as all the children came barging into the house at once, most of them still holding their brooms. Everyone looked up, through the windows, at the big barn owl now swooping very clearly towards the house, making an entry through the door, the children trying to jump out of its way as quickly as possible. 

The owl seemed a little confused to find that many people and made its way straight to the highest thing hanging in the room, a big lamp. 

From there it just looked down, seemingly trying to decide whom to deliver its letter to. 

Everyone looked at Iris. She was the one to talk to animals, everyone knew that. She got up from where she had been sitting at the table, slowly, as to not to frighten the owl even more, and moved towards it in a careful, non-threatening manner, something that she always achieved very well, despite her large figure. 

When she was only a meter or so away from the bird, she stopped, looking it in the eyes. 

For a few seconds, the room was entirely quiet, a very rare occurrence. It seemed like everyone was holding their breaths. 

“Hey girl. Look, we don’t want to frighten you. But we do need to see who that letter is for. You see, there are a lot of people living here. If you come down, I can read the envelope and then we can make sure that the right person gets the letter. Does that sound good to you? I promise, nobody will hurt you.” 

The owl listened attentively, still looking Iris directly into the eyes. It seemed to consider her words for a few seconds and then let out a small agreeing ‘huh’ and flew down to land on the back of an empty chair. 

Iris smiled and again slowly approached the owl, who propped up the leg with the letter. 

“Thank you. Now, let’s see.” 

She only brought her face close enough to the envelope to read the name, without moving her arms to not frighten the bird. 

“Ingrid Rosen. It’s for you, Mom. The awesome person over there, in the armchair.” 

Iris pointed at Ingrid’s armchair on the other end of the room. The owl looked up and proceeded to fly over, land on one of the armrests and prop up its leg again, this time clearly for the purpose of the letter being removed.

“Thank you very much.” 

Ingrid removed the letter carefully and the owl flew out of the door immediately afterwards. Everyone in the room now settled around the table, curious about the letter. 

“It’s from Hogwarts.” 

Ingrid opened the letter quickly, aware that that announcement was sure to worry quite a few people in this room. She scanned the letter quickly, paying the most attention to the signature. 

“It’s okay, it’s from Minerva.” 

The tension in the room lifted slightly. 

“Is she okay?” 

When it was worry for themselves before, now it shifted to the person that was very important to most of them, especially to Harry. Ingrid knew how much it mattered to him to know that she was safe. 

“Yes, she’s fine. There’s another child she wants us to look at during the Christmas holidays this week. Hermione Granger. Apparently she’s very unhappy in Hogwarts.” 

“Cool! Can I come?” 

Harry looked quite eager. He had always been interested in Hogwarts and the students there, even though he himself had decided against going there, which was the main reason why now the tension was always high when Hogwarts was mentioned. Dumbledore had not been happy when they had brought him the news shortly after Harry’s eleventh birthday earlier this year. Not happy at all.

“Of course! I’d love to have you there.”

He beamed and then ran outside again with the other children to finish their Quidditch match in the field. 

Iris and her wife stayed in the room with Ingrid. 

“Another child? That’s three already this year! Maybe she should reconsider her allegiances!” 

Ingrid smiled. 

“She already has.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_“You know I can’t do this. Nobody can go up against Dumbledore and win.”_

_“You did.”_

_Ingrid looked up and for a few moments, they just looked into each other’s eyes. She was aware of her family around her, of the little baby sleeping in the crib. The boy who lived. And she knew what needed to be said. What she always said, what everything they talked about always came down to, for the last thirty years._

_“Then stay.”_

_Minerva closed her eyes for a moment and then got up abruptly and moved towards the door._

_“You know I can’t.”_

_“Yes you can. It is your choice.”_

_“That choice has been made long ago.”_

_“Not by you.”_

_Ingrid got up too. She felt that Minerva hesitated, but she knew it was not enough._

_“No. Not by me.”_

_They both knew that there was nothing else to say. Minerva opened the door and stepped outside._

_“Thank you.”_

_That was all Minerva said, and Ingrid knew it was all she would say. She didn’t need to ask again if the child could stay. She didn’t need to make sure he would be safe, he would be happy. Despite everything Ingrid had said, despite her hesitation, that choice too had been made long ago. In another time, at the end of another war. Now they both lived with their choices._


End file.
